Dark Reflection

Chapter 39

"Retribution"

by Lilyjack

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"Oh, Matt…" Kitty anxiously watched Chester and Deke slide Matt's duster off his arms and help him ease his battered body onto the low cot. "There's so much blood," she breathed.

Matt grimaced, lying back. "Only some of it's…mine, Kitty," he tried to reassure her.

"You shoulda seen the other feller, Miss Kitty." Deke curled a knowing lip. "Matt won."

"Don't worry…" Matt assured Kitty as she tugged off his boots. "No bullets this time."

"Charlie, I need hot water and soap," Kitty instructed. "I won't even be able to tell where he's hurt until we clean 'im up."

"Yes, Miss, right away," Charlie responded, heading competently up the stairs for the kitchen.

"Can one of you go for Doc?" she asked Chester and Deke, still dressed in the dark clothing used to disguise their appearance in Dodge.

Matt protested, "I don't need Doc, Kitty. It's not that bad."

"Well, let's just let Doc be the one to decide if you need his help or not. You don't look so good to me," Kitty fretted.

"I'll go fetch the doc, Miss Kitty." Chester offered. He hurriedly shucked his coat and hat and untied the bandanna from around his neck. "I'll be back directly."

"Thank you, Chester." She quickly gave him an impetuous hug, relieved that he was apparently unhurt by the events of the evening. Smiling bashfully, he hitch-stepped out the door, heading down the dark tunnel with Charlie Fitz's lantern lighting the way.

Kitty perched on the bed next to Matt, her brow furrowed, deep blue eyes apprehensive as she searched for wounds. "You sure you weren't hit by a bullet?"

"No, Kitty, I'm just a little…banged up is all. You're gonna get your…pretty dress dirty if you…"

"Oh, Matt," she shushed him. "I don't care about this old dress."

He closed his eyes. He hurt everywhere. He absently thought that maybe he'd overdone it a little.

Kitty fetched a washcloth and basin of tepid water from the table, placing it on the floor next to her feet. She wrung out the cloth and began gently cleaning the blood from his hands. Some of it was already dry. She gave a shiver and warily asked, "Whose blood is this, Matt?"

He hesitated, giving a small sigh. Then, softly, he answered her, "It's Linwood Chaney's blood, Kitty."

Kitty visibly paled. She swallowed, her gaze settling someplace unseen.

Matt didn't wish to contemplate what she might be thinking, recalling…reliving. The thought made his stomach turn.

She murmured simply, "I see."

"He's dead, Kitty."

She sucked in a breath and held it, her eyes avoiding his. Then she plainly stated, "Good," going back to her work, saying nothing more about it.

Matt lay still and closed his eyes for a moment, attempting to calm his mind, still unsettled by the violent events of the evening, his emotions raw. He tried to focus instead on the tender touch of the woman sitting beside him.

She spoke again. "You've reinjured your arm, Matt—it's bleedin' again. I knew Doc shoulda given you those stitches whether you wanted 'em or not. Take off that shirt."

Deke cleared his throat. They'd forgotten he was still in the room. "Uh, I'm gonna head up and see what's keepin' Charlie. Matt, you do what Miss Kitty says."

"A very sensible man, that Deke," she asserted quietly as he left the room. "Here, let me help you."

Matt abandoned himself to her quiet efficiency as she made quick work of the buttons.

"Here, let me help you sit up. I don't suppose you'll be needin' this anymore tonight," she observed before dexterously removing his gun belt and laying it beside the bed. Finally, she proceeded to skin off the bloody shirt. "No union suit?" she inquired drolly.

"I knew it was gonna be hotter than hell tonight…with that overcoat on," he explained ruefully.

"Why, Mr. Dillon, I'm shocked," she said archly. One eyebrow raised considerably as she tossed the sodden shirt aside, but her lips twitched in quiet amusement.

Deke quickly returned with his hands full. "Here ya' go, Miss Kitty," Deke announced. He set a washbasin with clean, hot water in place of the dirty one. "I'll haul this out for ya'. Charlie's right behind me with towels and such."

"Thank you, Deke." Kitty placed a hand on Deke's arm, pinning him with her gaze. "I'm awful glad you're alright."

"Thanks, Miss Kitty." He returned her gaze. "I appreciate it. But…I think you've got ever'thing purty much taken care of here. So I'm gonna just head on over to the saloon now, listen to the local gossip."

Matt quietly advised him, "Change clothes first. And let me…know what you hear."

"I'll do that, Matt." He shook Matt's hand firmly, and they exchanged solemn glances that required no words. They'd done a good thing that night. Now it was time to see what would happen next.

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Doc stood back and examined his own handiwork through his spectacles. He prided himself on his stitches, nice and neat and evenly spaced. It would leave a much less noticeable scar when a doctor took his time and did things right. "Alright, that's about all I can do for you, son." Doc shuffled to the table, washing his bloody hands in the basin.

"Thanks, Doc. I'll try not to bust 'em out," Matt declared wryly.

"You'd better not," Doc firmly advised. "Matt, you've gotta get some rest. You've lost a lotta blood and you're not gettin' enough oxygen with that rib still making breathing difficult. It's not gonna fully heal if you don't stay outta trouble."

"Whatta you want me to do, Doc?" Matt argued. "I can't just stand by…and let Blackthorne run these people over."

"I don't know what to tell you, Matt. But you're gonna kill yourself if you don't try and take it easy for a while."

Kitty had been quietly listening. She added, "I imagine they should all three lay low for a few days after stirrin' up so much trouble."

Chester piped up from the corner of the room, "I myself wouldn't mind takin' it easy fer a couple three days." He added gloomily, "'Cept I hafta work my shift at the Long Branch."

Doc gave Matt a quick, businesslike nod. "I'll ask Ma to cook you up some good beef liver," he said.

"Liver?" Matt .

"Yes, liver," Doc stated emphatically. "It'll build up your blood."

"Aw, Doc." Matt slid a little lower on his pillow.

Chester suggested, "Liver is purty good, long as ya' don't leave it too awful bloody. Gotta cook it awhile till it's kindly gray. Gravy hides that gray color real good though."

Matt sighed long-sufferingly.

"He'll eat it, Doc," Kitty assured the old physician as he hid a smile behind a swipe of his bristly mustache.

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Kitty roused from dozing in her chair. What had woken her? A voice? She saw a light approaching from the tunnel.

Deke burst into the room, out of breath. "Blackthorne's searchin' the whole town. Even searchin' house-to-house. He knows somethin's brewin', and he aims to find out who killed his men."

Chester rose from his seat. "What'll we do?"

Matt struggled to sit up on his bed. "Deke, you and Chester get outta here."

"But, Mister Dillon…"

"Do as I say, Chester. You go to the Long Branch and…sweep floors with your head low. Deke, head back to your Pa's ranch as…fast as your horse will carry you."

"But what about you?"

"We're safe for the time being…right here. Go on, now. But warn Charlie first…so he and Harry Bodkin can be prepared."

"But…Miss Kitty?" Chester fretted.

Kitty stood and urged the two to head to safety. "Hurry!"

Chester cast a reluctant glance back at her before he hitched up the stairs to inform Charlie Fitz of a possible raid.

Matt winced as he stood. "Kitty, help me push this empty wine rack…into the hallway and we'll shove it up against…the door to help hide the entrance."

Kitty mutely nodded and they set to work. Minutes later Matt shut the door and hastily blew out the only lantern. The cellar room went pitch black. Kitty felt Matt fumbling for her hand to guide her to his cot. They breathlessly sat side by side and waited silently in the dark.

tbc

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